


Golden

by DeanRH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, Angels, Castiel/Dean Winchester Wing Kink, First Time, M/M, Wing Kink, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25259254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanRH/pseuds/DeanRH
Summary: After the end, Castiel takes Dean home.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 20
Kudos: 182





	1. Home

Castiel couldn't help but stare.

"Knock it off."

The angel gave the minutest shake of his head. He couldn't, not even if he'd wanted to, not even if he'd tried.

Here, at the end of everything.

Their reward.

Dean, standing uncertain at the edge of the plaza, here in Heaven. The light shining down on him. 

But what mattered most was where he was standing.

Castiel's home. His gift for completing his work as a soldier, the reward all soldiers dream about, the one thing Castiel thought lost to him forever.

And here he stood, with the object of his affection, of his devotion -

on the terrace that stood at the door to Castiel's house.

And Dean, dressed only in loose silk trousers -

Dean had beautiful golden wings.

***

"Where are we?" Dean asked.

"Heaven."

"I can see that," said Dean, his testy attitude making Castiel's lips twitch in the suggestion of a smile. "Where in heaven? Whose memorex heaven is this?"

"This is no human heaven," said Castiel with reverence. "This is my home."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You have a home?"

"Of course, Dean, I'm an angel," said Castiel. "A soldier. I left home, as all soldiers do. I never thought -"

He fell silent.

"Are you gonna go inside?"

Castiel stared at the door.

"I - " he began. He didn't know if he could. He didn't know what he would find.

Oh, he knew that his house would look exactly as it used to.

But he didn't know what he might find had changed in himself since last he walked these halls.

"And," put in Dean, bringing him back to reality, just as Dean always did, "you think we could do something about _these?_ "

His pout was pretty. But then, it always was. 

He pointed at the wings. Castiel lost himself in staring again.

They were golden. 

Not in color, but as if the feathers were made of real gold. They shone, they glowed in the light. Just like Dean's soul had on earth.

They were the most delicate, strong, and breathtaking things he had ever seen. But he suspected that he could not tell Dean that.

Not yet, anyway.

"Well?"

Castiel nodded.

He put his hand on the latch.

The door swung inward.

Castiel had returned home.

***

The view indoors went straight to his heart and lodged there. Beautiful arched ceilings, all in white and gold. The windows with a view to the sea of clouds outside. Elegant and simple beauty. Castiel's war-worn heart sang. Peace, comfort. _Home._

Almost shyly, he turned to Dean.

Dean's mouth was hanging open as he took in the home of an angel for the first time.

"You like it?"

Dean blinked.

"Damn, Cas," he said. "Didn't know you had a home."

"Everyone does," said Castiel. "Even you, with Baby."

"Yeah, but I didn't know you were a rich guy."

Castiel laughed softly.

"Angels create their own homes," he explained. "I built this with my own hands."

If Dean had looked impressed before, he was downright awestruck now.

"But aren't you, like," Dean said around a dryness in his throat, "a giant sky monster?"

Castiel nodded.

"Your perception interprets the general idea of what it looks like in reality," he said. "This is for your benefit."

Dean stretched out a hand and caressed a nearby railing. Then he looked up.

"That why I have these?" he asked, indicating his new wings.

"Those are your reward."

"My reward is being an angel?" scoffed Dean. "No thanks."

"I think," Castiel said slowly, "our reward is something greater than that. You will not be required for duties in the way that angels normally are. You are at peace, Dean. You and your brother. This is a gift."

"Then we're done?" Dean asked, the ghost of hope edging at the corners of his voice. "That's it? We can rest?"

"You can rest," Castiel confirmed.

Dean sighed. His wings drooped in relief. 

Castiel noted this with interest.

"Finally," muttered Dean.

Then he looked up, surged forward, and kissed Castiel on the mouth.

***

Castiel did not respond. He just stared.

Dean moved back suddenly, a high flush coloring his cheeks. His wings drooped even further.

"Oh," said Dean. 

Then, "I'm sorry, I - I thought - stupid - "

Castiel suddenly came to life, following him as he backed away.

"No, it's - you were - " Castiel stuttered, reaching out for anything he could get his hands on, finally catching Dean around the waist and pulling him flush. 

He kissed Dean then, and Dean made a beautiful sound that echoed in Castiel's ears.

He was home, and he was safe, and he was finally kissing Dean Winchester.


	2. Learning

Dean broke away from the kiss, making Castiel whine and chase the softness of lips he had dreamed of since he had learned what it was to dream.

His charge turned away, apparently overwhelmed. His breath came in huge panting gasps, as he steadfastly looked the other direction and tried to regain some measure of control.

"I've wanted," Dean began. "So long, Cas. You don't even know."

"Emotions can be stronger here," Castiel said. "It might feel - "

"No, Cas," said Dean. "This is how I always felt. Not even Heaven could make it more intense. It's just, I need a minute before I lose it."

"All right," Castiel agreed, and watched his chest rise and fall as his breathing slowed to something more normal.

And that was when Castiel saw it -

a trickle of oil, from the juncture of the left golden wing, where it entered Dean's body.

Castiel _thrilled._

It was his turn to fear he might lose his composure.

"I never thought -" he murmured, reaching out to touch it. "Certainly, there are wings, but would the physiology -"

Dean looked at him over his shoulder. One golden wing lifted. It was so coy and come-hither that Castiel shivered, because he knew that Dean didn't know what he was doing.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on?" Dean asked. 

Castiel looked up at him.

"I think you may have angel physiology."

Dean lifted his wings a little.

"Yeah, pretty obvious."

"No, I mean," Castiel said, controlling his voice as best he could, "angels have different erogenous zones to humans. Different things work for them."

Dean waggled his eyebrows.

"You gonna show me, Teach?"

Castiel's gaze hardened.

"If you promise to do as I say."

The golden wings bowed. Dean gave them a strange look.

"I didn't do that."

Castiel's smile was sharp, and greedy.

_Oh, what pleasures I will show you._

***

Castiel was old. 

Older than Dean Winchester by a magnitude of billions.

He came apart beautifully beneath practiced hands, hands with experience beyond human ken. But Castiel would not allow him release. Not yet. He held him on the fine line between floating and falling. Dean had gone from babbling to an intense, silent need radiating from his entire body, and especially his wings.

Castiel worked the sodden feathers over, his fingers and arms filthy with Dean's oil, weeping from his back as he sobbed in silent aching, drawn bowstring-taut under Castiel's ministrations. Castiel had expected the feathers to darken, as most did when soaked in oil, but Dean's only shone the brighter, now nearly blinding. 

Castiel was a strategist. A tactitian. A torturer, in the sweeter sense of the word.

He would teach Dean a new delight.

And so his war-worn hands and his eyes that had seen the birth of the universe worked over the creature that had drawn him to rebellion.

If there would be a way to die of pleasure, this would be it.

"You are good, Dean," whispered Castiel. "So good. You deserve pleasure like this, unbearable pleasure. I love to see you this way. Thank you for this gift. Would you like to come?"

Tears wept from Dean's eyes. His cock was so hard that it stood up against his stomach, as Dean pressed forward in vain looking for friction to relieve the intensity of his need.

He took a deep breath. He nodded.

Castiel buried his hands in Dean's feathers, gripped him tight, and _pulled._

Dean screamed, and his body convulsed violently as he came and came and came.

"Hush, now," said Castiel, gathering Dean's sobbing, exhausted form to himself. "Rest, now."

Dean was not capable of speech, but a look from his eyes said _what about you_?

"Next time," Castiel assured him, and Dean was out.

***

As it turned out, _next time_ was not that far away.

Dean woke, ready again, and turned the tables.

Castiel's great black wings stood at attention as Dean slid home, inside Castiel, biting into the flesh between shoulder and neck with a shout. 

Then - 

"I'll bet you wanted me for _years_ ," Dean snarled as he fucked into Castiel with abandon. "Dreamed of me, dreamed of _this,_ didn't you, Cas? Rebellion, all because you wanted me to fuck you, needed to ride this cock, fuck, you look so good taking it."

"Yes," Castiel gasped. "Yes, Dean, I wanted you - wanted you for years - "

"And you wanted to fuck me, too, didn't you?" Dean continued. "Probably didn't even know what you were feelin', just wanted to fuck the righteous man?"

"It was the first time I touched myself," Castiel admitted aloud, and Dean's responding groan encouraged him further. "When you touched me, Dean - I didn't know, I didn't understand, but it felt _so good_ thinking about you -"

"Fucking take it," said Dean between his teeth. "Oh, yeah, fucking take it like you wanted to all those years, Cas, oh - fuck - _fuck -_ "

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said. "Forever."

There was a pause, and Dean stuttered inside him, and then came again just as he whispered, _I love you so goddamned much_ in a fierce undertone.

Castiel's mouth dropped open. The world, time, everything seemed to stop. 

It was small, rough, and so very human.

He came in stripes across his own stomach as Dean stroked his hair, his wings, anything he could get his hands on. Castiel just stared up at him as if he were unbelievable, a holy thing both sacred and profane.

And Castiel finally understood -

He was. They were. 

All of them, made of starstuff.

***

Some time later -

and since time moved differently in Heaven, it could have been months or years. Castiel did not know or care. They were finished. They had deserved their rest.

But some time later, Castiel put his hand in Dean's, and led him from his home - now _their_ home, should Dean want it ( _"Yeah, Cas. I want it."_ )

They made their way down the shining streets of heaven, to find themselves in an arbor. There was a long table set with an incredible feast, and people there that Dean had loved.

Sam stood up from his chair and smiled.

"We saved seats for you," he said.

And Dean Winchester, his brother Sam, and the angel Castiel finally reached the end of their journey, and found peace.


End file.
